Page 166 of The Lazarov Bratva

16

KRISTOF

Her touch, as light as a feather and as gentle as a kiss, breaks me.

The restrained cracks that I fight to hold in one place utterly crumble underneath her touch. Strings snap, and the tension that winds tight like clockwork in my chest completely bursts open.

Her beautiful eyes, brimming with worry, completely blur, and for the first time in decades, I cry.

There’s no stopping it. Warm static surges through me, rising from my gut and flooding my chest so quickly that I’m forced to gasp for air. A strangled noise reaches my ears, a noise that comes from me, and my heart breaks in my chest.

Ivan is dead.

Nastja is dead.

Alyona is dead and not the mother I held her to be.

My men are in tatters, and the threads with which I hold my team together are withering away at my fingertips. The only things I have are Alena and our baby.

The only things that give me the drive to keep going beyond the primal desire to see Aleksander die.

Alena cups my face in both her hands as my legs turn to jelly. The ground rushes to meet me, and when my knees collide with the floor, she’s right there beside me. Her hands slide into my hair and she cradles my head against the warmth of her chest. Soft, hushing sounds reach my ears every so often, but it’s difficult to decipher them past the pain that rocks me to my core.

I clutch at her, gripping tightly onto her clothes until the fabric burns against my fingertips and I can’t let go.

The tears pour, drenching my face, and all control leaves me. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I screw my eyes up so tightly that it feels like my lids are flipping inside out, and still, I cry.

I cry for Ivan, my baby brother and his continuous calm outlook on life. He was one of the most dangerous people I ever knew, but if he liked you, he went above and beyond to ensure you felt like you were worth his time. Even from a young age, when I was trying to instill the importance of survival into him, he was more interested in the animals and the garden. Everything else he learned by osmosis. It wasn’t a challenge, and knowing he had my back brought a warm sense of security that no one else could give me.

I cry for Nastja, my beautiful baby sister. She was as fierce as she was gentle, as loyal as she was kind. She was the only person who looked at me and saw the real me underneath. Not the killer who worked in the shadows for the Orlova Family. She saw the man who got excited at the prospect of being a godfather, the man who enjoyed slipping a bet on the horses and had a soft spot for cowboy movies. She was so observant and was often the only one bold enough to call me out on my shit.

I’d shut her down, of course, but I knew she came from a place of love.

I’d raised them as if they were my own. Taught them. Cared for them and brought them into a life I was sure would enable their survival.

Instead, I sent them right to their executioner.

Alena continues to hum ever so gently in her throat. It’s a calming sound, but try as I might, I can’t regain control. The pain flows, and my tears soak into her T-shirt, not that she complains. She holds me like the bars of a gentle cage.

I cry for Alyona, as much as I wish I wouldn’t, the snake hiding in my nest from when I was a child. I held such praise and love for her in my heart and was so excited to see her and introduce Alena to her. I sought her approval, and all this time, I was nothing to her, an old promise she was overseeing until the end.

With my foundation crumbling, how can I be expected to raise a child? To provide a good and safe space for my family?

My own was a shame. At a drop of a hat, Alyona threw all faux loyalty through the window, and as far as I’m concerned, she got my siblings killed. She won’t receive a proper burial, and I hope her tortured soul wanders the mountain, lost, for an eternity.

And yet, the fault lies across my own shoulders.

I started this. I stole Alena and set this ball rolling.

The thought makes my chest cave in on itself, and I curl inward until my head is in Alena’s lap. Still, she holds me. Still, she soothes me.

I can’t lose her. I refuse to.

I had no limits before this, but now I know deep down in my bones that there is nothing in this world that I won’t do to keep her by my side. There’s no line I won’t cross, no person I won’t kill to ensure that she and my child have a good life.

A better life than the shriveled dregs of my own.

Losing her is an impossible thought. Even considering it now makes me choke and scares me to the point that I can’t breathe.

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